Flesh Trade
by Master of the Boot
Summary: Underneath the shiny exterior of Republic City is a core of insanity and despair. It is the hub of a human trafficking operation that touches every corner of the earth. And now young, ambitious Tahno finds himself in the crosshairs of that operation. Welcome to the Flesh Trade.
1. The Debutante

_Flesh Trade_

Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Korra or the Strain. Both are third party properties and trademarked. This is a not for profit venture. This story deals with topics of unseen privilege and human trafficking, if these topics bother you please turn back now.

* * *

><p><em>Prologue<em>

_Lok Announcer: Welcome to Republic City! A shining jewel of the world and a showcase of all four cultures, the capital of the United Republics brings Earth Kingdom tradition, Air Nation Spirituality, Fire Nation luxury and Water tribe elegance. But most of all, See the Grand Xing Hotel, the largest and most luxurious hotel in the world! Rub shoulders with the who's who of Republic City. Book your tickets today!_

The Pro-Bending team the Wolfbats basked in the bright flashes of the photographer's cameras. The three lads were young, strapping benders with looks that could make men and women alike weak in the knees. With the rise of radio and the newspaper these three boys and many like them had become the princes of this City's new celebrity worshipping culture. An entire industry had sprung up over the last twenty years dedicated to nothing but the going on of the rich and famous.

The captain of the team, a young mixed race water bender by the name of Tahno gave his best devilish smile as he shook hands with none other than lightning bolt Zolt; notorious gang leader of Republic city and a true master of public relations. The pair shook hands like old friends, giving the morning tabloids plenty of fuel for scandal, conspiracy and gossip.

As the Wolfbats and Zolt prepared to enter the black tie event at the Grand Xing hotel, bouncers kept back the press. The entrance might be the feeding ground of the paparazzi but inside was strictly invitations only. The ruling council of Republic City would be here as well as captains of industry and the City's religious leadership.

Tahno felt a deep satisfaction in his soul as the last of the camera flashes hit him and Zolt began to tell the journalists that question time was over. Better than sex, the thought of an entire city knocking down his door to know the handsome and sexy Captain Tahno filled him with white light and joy.

Next to him, his boyfriend Ming tried to hold his hand, but Tahno rebuffed him. Chiding his boyfriend gently, "Ming, not in public, please. People have to believe that we're available; it's what makes us a hot commodity." He truly did not mean to hurt Ming, he did not; and at this point Ming had gotten very good at hiding his hurt and disappointment from his boyfriend.

Cheerfully the third man on the team, Shaozu gave Ming a playful slap on the ass as the three handed in their coats at the lobby. "Don't feel too bad, Ming. The only thing the paparazzi hate is a taken man. And Tahno will make it up to you later," he started to laugh loudly at his own joke, semi-placating Ming.

As the three entered the ballroom, Shaozu broke off to try and get some married women to have sex with him. He just never felt alive unless he was wrecking another's relationship. As he started to make moves on the nearest MILF, Tahno whispered to Ming. "Remember to play it cool. Reporters only like men in relationships when they're cheating and I could never do that to you."

Straightening up, Ming really did begin to feel better. He gave Tahno a hit on the shoulder before heading off, "Well I guess I never could stay mad at you. Though I'll do everything I can tonight to make you jealous," he winked and strutted off.

Tahno had to remember to breathe, as the thought of Ming flirting with other men and women both served as a source of rage and a huge, huge turn on. Before he could get any further into the ballroom, he found himself ambushed by one Varrick, a hotshot industrialist from the Southern Water tribe and his overworked assistant Zhu-li.

"Hold it! Hold it!" shouted the overly animated and flamboyant Varrick, "Hold very still," the millionaire mogul cautioned the water bender.

Tahno wasn't the least bit worried but he was annoyed. "What do you want?" he asked the jumpy industrialist.

Varrick had his eyes focused on Tahno like lasers and he was crouching like he expected an invisible enemy to attack him that only he could see. "Stand very still, your life depends on it."

Suddenly, Zhu-li grabbed Tahno's shoulder. "Hey!" he protested. Just as he moved to push the lowly secretary woman off of him, Varrick lunged forward with a pair of tweezers and plucked a single hair from Tahno's scalp. "Ow, fuck!"

Varrick stepped back, ignoring Tahno's anger and admiring the new addition to his collection. He spoke to his assistant, "Zhu-li, isn't this the sexiest hair you've ever seen?"

The affirmation was instant, monotone and enthusiastic, "Yes sir. Sexiest hair I've ever seen."

Tahno jabbed a finger at the industrialist, "You're sick. If you ever lay a hand on me again there will be consequences." He narrowed his eyes and put on a smouldering look to try and intimidate Varrick but it had rather the opposite effect.

The animated mogul waved his hands in wild gestures, "Say-no-more, say-no-more. One hair is all I need to get off. I'll give you cab fair at the end of the night but this isn't love and you shouldn't miss me," He began to recede with Zhu-Li. "Don't play the jealous boyfriend! I hate that!"

Tahno watched Varrick walk off into the party and he rolled his eyes, "Where have you been spending your nights?"

"Tahno!" The call of his name shook him out of his disgust and he saw Lightning Bolt Zolt approaching with a distinguished guest.

"My boy," Zolt flashed his winning grin, almost as bright as the jewelry he was wearing. "I'd like you to meet someone, a good friend in the shipping business. This is Tomas Eichhorst and he and I go way back."

The man Tomas Eichhorst smiled at Tahno from under his fedora and black suit. He was an aging but healthy European man with thinning hair and small blue eyes. Eichhorst didn't say anything right away; he just kept smiling as if laughing at a joke only he was in on.

"I didn't know you had any foreign friends," Tahno asked the notorious gangster, "Is he Dutch?"

It was then that Eichhorst spoke, a light but oddly musical accent colouring his words. "Maybe, maybe not," He leaned in a bit and smiled a little wider, "If you're a water bender, why are you white?" he cheekily asked.

Tahno stiffened at the question but before he could shut the European down, Zolt laughed.

"Oh, didn't I say, Tahno; my boy Eichhorst is quite an edgy fellow. Shake his hand and you'd better check to see if your watch is still there," Zolt laughed, "Eh, Tomas, you cheapskate, gajin herpes spreader?" He laughed at his own crudeness and Eichhorst joined in enthusiasm.

The white man playfully pointed a finger at the gangster, "Better watch out, I'll be coming after your daughter and your wife at the same time."

Zolt chuckled before spotting one of his good friends on the city council, "Well I'll leave you two to get acquainted better. I've got other friends to entertain. Greetings, Councillor Tarlok!"

Thus Tahno was left with the still smiling European. As Zolt went to go schmooze with one of the least non-bender friendly councillors, Tahno gave Eichhorst a look up and down. "Do you always insult and threaten everyone you meet?"

Smile spreading a bit wider, Eichhorst took of his fedora and ran a hand through his grey/blonde hair. "I might come across as a bit theatrical but fundamentally I'm a good person inside." Replacing his cap upon his head, Eichhorst straightened his tie. "And to answer your earlier question, I'm from _Yermanikos_; it's a small country that was absorbed by the Dutch nearly a century ago. Culturally we're still distinct even though we obey the Orange throne."

Tahno smirked a bit as he and Eichhorst were handed glasses of sparkling wine by an approaching waiter. "I honestly thought you might be from Svalbard; you're pale enough for it."

Eichhorst nodded and took a sip of his wine, "But I'm not wearing any furs. My partner in the shipping business, Mikkelsen is from Svalbard; they tend to be taller than the Dutch or _Yermaniki_ like myself. Though I'm glad that you didn't assume I was from either Texas or Manitoba; damned be those two countries."

Tahno laughed, "And to answer _your_ earlier question my mother was half water tribe and the other half of me is earth Kingdom."

Draining his glass in a single gulp, Eichhorst was beside himself with glee. "Stubborn and flexible in one package. You are a remarkable young man, Herr Tahno. I've heard that you and your team were the youngest Pro-Bending champions in history. I've also heard many tales of your reputation as a heart breaker." His eyes narrowed a bit and one eyebrow rose just so slightly.

The pale water bender sipped his glass slowly, starting to get into the conversation with the white European. "I owe it all to the fans. I owe my success to my mother, the Spirits and my adoring fans. I worked hard to get here and used nothing but hard work. The groupies are just a perk, really."

"So the rumours of your cheating are groundless," he was still smiling but there was something a bit less friendly in that heavily accented voice; not to mention a hint of hunger.

Part of Tahno wanted to just leave right now and let the Yermaniki twist in the wind, but to do so would admit defeat; and he never backed down from a challenge. "Groundless rumours born of jealousy I'm sure. I'm the most honest man in pro-bending." For emphasis he tossed his head to show off his bouffant, sleek hair. "I wasn't handed anything in life. I earned and deserve everything I have."

Eichhorst straightened up and for once stopped smiling. He wore an expression of child like curiosity on his face that looked too large for lies or theatricality. "Do you really think that? Do any of us earn what we have?"

The Captain of the Wolfbats frowned. If he didn't know any better, it looked like the foreigner was trying to confess something. And he did not look forward to being this man's psychoanalyst so he was honest. "Yes, I honestly do believe that people have things because they deserve them. People who are poor or ugly are either lazy or they were lazy in a past life. When I say I worked to earn my keep, I mean it; I'm not just tooting my own horn."

Eichhorst pressed, like a child breathlessly taking in a parent's answers. "But how do you know that you deserve your lot in life; is there a way to know? How much of it is like an invisible bag pack we are born with?"

"Invisible bag pack!" Tahno laughed derisively. His sneering laughter seemed to greatly sadden Eichhorst and under his fedora he seemed to grow small and frightened. Frightened by what Tahno had no idea nor did he really care; the last thing he wanted was the man's life story.

Those empty blue eyes looked back at Tahno with hope joining the mixed emotions of sadness and curiosity. "But suppose we weren't dealt a good hand. What if we weren't who we were? What if you couldn't bend?"

Now Tahno was starting to get angry. Babysitting was not something he sighed up for with this party. He was here to turn heads and be noticed; not fetch this foreigner man child's blankie. "You think my life was easy? Try being the only mixed nation kid in the neighbourhood. And even if I hadn't been born with bending, I would have pulled up myself by my bootstraps and become someone great like Hiroshi Sato. Some people are just better, that's how it's always been."

One final time, this time there was resignation in his voice and acceptance on his face, "I came from a family of hunters, but I was never very good at it. I found other ways to prosper besides hunting, but I always wanted to be good at it." He sighed as he admitted, "Since I was never good at hunting I took to hitting women."

Tahno rolled his eyes, "Oh don't act all sad about that. Everybody knows that it takes two to make an argument. I won't judge you for what you've done; those bitches probably did something to make you hit them. I used to be with a very clingy girl before I met Ming and sometimes she just needed to be put in her place."

Without warning, Eichhorst burst into laughter. The child grew into a pale eyed and yellow toothed man with a lust for life and laughter. He was no longer a lost child but the life of the party. He spoke to Tahno with renewed cheer and joviality as he handed off his empty wine glass to a server. "That's the spirit! No apologies, no mercy; life is a party and I'll rest when I'm dead!" He laughed and stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of them and invading Tahno's much appreciated personal space.

The Yermaniki cocked his head and just looked over Tahno's beautiful features like he could see under his skin. "And what was that you said; something about being with Ming?" He clicked his tongue, "You don't mean your teammate Ming? Do you fuck before each match? I hear it's a great way to build up excess qi."

"It was a slip of the tongue," Tahno reigned in his emotions, "I'm not tied down to anyone. I can have anyone or anything I want. And also, you might want to take your big mouth somewhere else; before you get hurt."

The foreigner laughed, smoker's teeth clacking in delight. "I like you, boy; your beauty keeps me hungry." He looked like he might literally want to eat the Wolfbat, "Your passion makes me hard," he winked. "See you later, _tschuss._"

He walked off, and not a moment too soon. Tahno was going to need to take a long bath after meeting with that scumbag.

* * *

><p>That was fun I know I have so many backlogged writing projects but my gut told me I had to write this and so I did.<p>

The character Eichhorst is from a show called the strain and is played by the Phenomenal Richard Sammel. The charater of Eicchorst was one of the best villains I've seen in a long time and amazingly complex; so I decided to mix him up with a little real world Asian-European history and drop him into the world of Avatar.

And frankly I kind of like the idea that in the avatar world there's a bending Europe that's more or less a backwater hellhole.

So I hope you enjoyed this there will be two more chapters after this, each one more twisted than the last so prepare yourself

Ta

Master of the Boot


	2. The Good Herren

_Flesh Trade_

Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Korra or the Strain. Both are third party properties and trademarked. This is a not for profit venture. This story deals with topics of unseen privilege and human trafficking, if these topics bother you please turn back now.

* * *

><p><em>Prologue<em>

_Lok Announcer: Welcome to Republic City! A shining jewel of the world and a showcase of all four cultures, the capital of the United Republics brings Earth Kingdom tradition, Air Nation Spirituality, Fire Nation luxury and Water tribe elegance. But most of all, See the Grand Xing Hotel, the largest and most luxurious hotel in the world! Rub shoulders with the who's who of Republic City. Book your tickets today!_

The Pro-Bending team the Wolfbats basked in the bright flashes of the photographer's cameras. The three lads were young, strapping benders with looks that could make men and women alike weak in the knees. With the rise of radio and the newspaper these three boys and many like them had become the princes of this City's new celebrity worshipping culture. An entire industry had sprung up over the last twenty years dedicated to nothing but the going on of the rich and famous.

The captain of the team, a young mixed race water bender by the name of Tahno gave his best devilish smile as he shook hands with none other than lightning bolt Zolt; notorious gang leader of Republic city and a true master of public relations. The pair shook hands like old friends, giving the morning tabloids plenty of fuel for scandal, conspiracy and gossip.

As the Wolfbats and Zolt prepared to enter the black tie event at the Grand Xing hotel, bouncers kept back the press. The entrance might be the feeding ground of the paparazzi but inside was strictly invitations only. The ruling council of Republic City would be here as well as captains of industry and the City's religious leadership.

Tahno felt a deep satisfaction in his soul as the last of the camera flashes hit him and Zolt began to tell the journalists that question time was over. Better than sex, the thought of an entire city knocking down his door to know the handsome and sexy Captain Tahno filled him with white light and joy.

Next to him, his boyfriend Ming tried to hold his hand, but Tahno rebuffed him. Chiding his boyfriend gently, "Ming, not in public, please. People have to believe that we're available; it's what makes us a hot commodity." He truly did not mean to hurt Ming, he did not; and at this point Ming had gotten very good at hiding his hurt and disappointment from his boyfriend.

Cheerfully the third man on the team, Shaozu gave Ming a playful slap on the ass as the three handed in their coats at the lobby. "Don't feel too bad, Ming. The only thing the paparazzi hate is a taken man. And Tahno will make it up to you later," he started to laugh loudly at his own joke, semi-placating Ming.

As the three entered the ballroom, Shaozu broke off to try and get some married women to have sex with him. He just never felt alive unless he was wrecking another's relationship. As he started to make moves on the nearest MILF, Tahno whispered to Ming. "Remember to play it cool. Reporters only like men in relationships when they're cheating and I could never do that to you."

Straightening up, Ming really did begin to feel better. He gave Tahno a hit on the shoulder before heading off, "Well I guess I never could stay mad at you. Though I'll do everything I can tonight to make you jealous," he winked and strutted off.

Tahno had to remember to breathe, as the thought of Ming flirting with other men and women both served as a source of rage and a huge, huge turn on. Before he could get any further into the ballroom, he found himself ambushed by one Varrick, a hotshot industrialist from the Southern Water tribe and his overworked assistant Zhu-li.

"Hold it! Hold it!" shouted the overly animated and flamboyant Varrick, "Hold very still," the millionaire mogul cautioned the water bender.

Tahno wasn't the least bit worried but he was annoyed. "What do you want?" he asked the jumpy industrialist.

Varrick had his eyes focused on Tahno like lasers and he was crouching like he expected an invisible enemy to attack him that only he could see. "Stand very still, your life depends on it."

Suddenly, Zhu-li grabbed Tahno's shoulder. "Hey!" he protested. Just as he moved to push the lowly secretary woman off of him, Varrick lunged forward with a pair of tweezers and plucked a single hair from Tahno's scalp. "Ow, fuck!"

Varrick stepped back, ignoring Tahno's anger and admiring the new addition to his collection. He spoke to his assistant, "Zhu-li, isn't this the sexiest hair you've ever seen?"

The affirmation was instant, monotone and enthusiastic, "Yes sir. Sexiest hair I've ever seen."

Tahno jabbed a finger at the industrialist, "You're sick. If you ever lay a hand on me again there will be consequences." He narrowed his eyes and put on a smouldering look to try and intimidate Varrick but it had rather the opposite effect.

The animated mogul waved his hands in wild gestures, "Say-no-more, say-no-more. One hair is all I need to get off. I'll give you cab fair at the end of the night but this isn't love and you shouldn't miss me," He began to recede with Zhu-Li. "Don't play the jealous boyfriend! I hate that!"

Tahno watched Varrick walk off into the party and he rolled his eyes, "Where have you been spending your nights?"

"Tahno!" The call of his name shook him out of his disgust and he saw Lightning Bolt Zolt approaching with a distinguished guest.

"My boy," Zolt flashed his winning grin, almost as bright as the jewelry he was wearing. "I'd like you to meet someone, a good friend in the shipping business. This is Tomas Eichhorst and he and I go way back."

The man Tomas Eichhorst smiled at Tahno from under his fedora and black suit. He was an aging but healthy European man with thinning hair and small blue eyes. Eichhorst didn't say anything right away; he just kept smiling as if laughing at a joke only he was in on.

"I didn't know you had any foreign friends," Tahno asked the notorious gangster, "Is he Dutch?"

It was then that Eichhorst spoke, a light but oddly musical accent colouring his words. "Maybe, maybe not," He leaned in a bit and smiled a little wider, "If you're a water bender, why are you white?" he cheekily asked.

Tahno stiffened at the question but before he could shut the European down, Zolt laughed.

"Oh, didn't I say, Tahno; my boy Eichhorst is quite an edgy fellow. Shake his hand and you'd better check to see if your watch is still there," Zolt laughed, "Eh, Tomas, you cheapskate, gajin herpes spreader?" He laughed at his own crudeness and Eichhorst joined in enthusiasm.

The white man playfully pointed a finger at the gangster, "Better watch out, I'll be coming after your daughter and your wife at the same time."

Zolt chuckled before spotting one of his good friends on the city council, "Well I'll leave you two to get acquainted better. I've got other friends to entertain. Greetings, Councillor Tarlok!"

Thus Tahno was left with the still smiling European. As Zolt went to go schmooze with one of the least non-bender friendly councillors, Tahno gave Eichhorst a look up and down. "Do you always insult and threaten everyone you meet?"

Smile spreading a bit wider, Eichhorst took of his fedora and ran a hand through his grey/blonde hair. "I might come across as a bit theatrical but fundamentally I'm a good person inside." Replacing his cap upon his head, Eichhorst straightened his tie. "And to answer your earlier question, I'm from _Yermanikos_; it's a small country that was absorbed by the Dutch nearly a century ago. Culturally we're still distinct even though we obey the Orange throne."

Tahno smirked a bit as he and Eichhorst were handed glasses of sparkling wine by an approaching waiter. "I honestly thought you might be from Svalbard; you're pale enough for it."

Eichhorst nodded and took a sip of his wine, "But I'm not wearing any furs. My partner in the shipping business, Mikkelsen is from Svalbard; they tend to be taller than the Dutch or _Yermaniki_ like myself. Though I'm glad that you didn't assume I was from either Texas or Manitoba; damned be those two countries."

Tahno laughed, "And to answer _your_ earlier question my mother was half water tribe and the other half of me is earth Kingdom."

Draining his glass in a single gulp, Eichhorst was beside himself with glee. "Stubborn and flexible in one package. You are a remarkable young man, Herr Tahno. I've heard that you and your team were the youngest Pro-Bending champions in history. I've also heard many tales of your reputation as a heart breaker." His eyes narrowed a bit and one eyebrow rose just so slightly.

The pale water bender sipped his glass slowly, starting to get into the conversation with the white European. "I owe it all to the fans. I owe my success to my mother, the Spirits and my adoring fans. I worked hard to get here and used nothing but hard work. The groupies are just a perk, really."

"So the rumours of your cheating are groundless," he was still smiling but there was something a bit less friendly in that heavily accented voice; not to mention a hint of hunger.

Part of Tahno wanted to just leave right now and let the Yermaniki twist in the wind, but to do so would admit defeat; and he never backed down from a challenge. "Groundless rumours born of jealousy I'm sure. I'm the most honest man in pro-bending." For emphasis he tossed his head to show off his bouffant, sleek hair. "I wasn't handed anything in life. I earned and deserve everything I have."

Eichhorst straightened up and for once stopped smiling. He wore an expression of child like curiosity on his face that looked too large for lies or theatricality. "Do you really think that? Do any of us earn what we have?"

The Captain of the Wolfbats frowned. If he didn't know any better, it looked like the foreigner was trying to confess something. And he did not look forward to being this man's psychoanalyst so he was honest. "Yes, I honestly do believe that people have things because they deserve them. People who are poor or ugly are either lazy or they were lazy in a past life. When I say I worked to earn my keep, I mean it; I'm not just tooting my own horn."

Eichhorst pressed, like a child breathlessly taking in a parent's answers. "But how do you know that you deserve your lot in life; is there a way to know? How much of it is like an invisible bag pack we are born with?"

"Invisible bag pack!" Tahno laughed derisively. His sneering laughter seemed to greatly sadden Eichhorst and under his fedora he seemed to grow small and frightened. Frightened by what Tahno had no idea nor did he really care; the last thing he wanted was the man's life story.

Those empty blue eyes looked back at Tahno with hope joining the mixed emotions of sadness and curiosity. "But suppose we weren't dealt a good hand. What if we weren't who we were? What if you couldn't bend?"

Now Tahno was starting to get angry. Babysitting was not something he sighed up for with this party. He was here to turn heads and be noticed; not fetch this foreigner man child's blankie. "You think my life was easy? Try being the only mixed nation kid in the neighbourhood. And even if I hadn't been born with bending, I would have pulled up myself by my bootstraps and become someone great like Hiroshi Sato. Some people are just better, that's how it's always been."

One final time, this time there was resignation in his voice and acceptance on his face, "I came from a family of hunters, but I was never very good at it. I found other ways to prosper besides hunting, but I always wanted to be good at it." He sighed as he admitted, "Since I was never good at hunting I took to hitting women."

Tahno rolled his eyes, "Oh don't act all sad about that. Everybody knows that it takes two to make an argument. I won't judge you for what you've done; those bitches probably did something to make you hit them. I used to be with a very clingy girl before I met Ming and sometimes she just needed to be put in her place."

Without warning, Eichhorst burst into laughter. The child grew into a pale eyed and yellow toothed man with a lust for life and laughter. He was no longer a lost child but the life of the party. He spoke to Tahno with renewed cheer and joviality as he handed off his empty wine glass to a server. "That's the spirit! No apologies, no mercy; life is a party and I'll rest when I'm dead!" He laughed and stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of them and invading Tahno's much appreciated personal space.

The Yermaniki cocked his head and just looked over Tahno's beautiful features like he could see under his skin. "And what was that you said; something about being with Ming?" He clicked his tongue, "You don't mean your teammate Ming? Do you fuck before each match? I hear it's a great way to build up excess qi."

"It was a slip of the tongue," Tahno reigned in his emotions, "I'm not tied down to anyone. I can have anyone or anything I want. And also, you might want to take your big mouth somewhere else; before you get hurt."

The foreigner laughed, smoker's teeth clacking in delight. "I like you, boy; your beauty keeps me hungry." He looked like he might literally want to eat the Wolfbat, "Your passion makes me hard," he winked. "See you later, _tschuss._"

He walked off, and not a moment too soon. Tahno was going to need to take a long bath after meeting with that scumbag.

* * *

><p>That was fun I know I have so many backlogged writing projects but my gut told me I had to write this and so I did.<p>

The character Eichhorst is from a show called the strain and is played by the Phenomenal Richard Sammel. The charater of Eicchorst was one of the best villains I've seen in a long time and amazingly complex; so I decided to mix him up with a little real world Asian-European history and drop him into the world of Avatar.

And frankly I kind of like the idea that in the avatar world there's a bending Europe that's more or less a backwater hellhole.

So I hope you enjoyed this there will be two more chapters after this, each one more twisted than the last so prepare yourself

Ta

Master of the Boot


	3. The Solution

Flesh Trade

Disclaimer: I own no third party properties and I do not own any trademarked characters. This story features mentions of rape, death and mental torture. Now enjoy.

_Lok Announcer: Tragedy! Young Tahno, former captain of the Whitefalls Wolfbats has been taken prisoner by slave traders! What will he do? What dark fate awaits him? Stay tuned and find out!_

* * *

><p>Tahno shivered in the cage as Eichhorst laughed at him, trying desperately to shrink away from those empty baby blue eyes. His body shook; he suddenly became aware of how cold this room was and how his breath was visible in the air. Goosebumps covered Tahno's body and he started to huddle in on himself for warmth and for what was left of his modesty.<p>

This in turn only made Eichhorst laugh harder, as he began to walk around the cage to try and view the naked, helpless captive from all angles. "Oh, Tahno," he purred, "You're a sight for sore eyes."

Tahno shook, cheeks burning with shame and pivoting on one foot to try and keep himself as hidden as possible from the lecherous, greedy, psychopathic Yermaniki. He fell to the floor of his cage and shrieked as Mikkelson slammed on the bars with the handle of his axe.

Eichhorst laughed a full belly laugh and then squatted down so that he could look Tahno in the eye. Slowly, the boy sat up in the confines of the cage, meeting Eichhorst's gaze out the corner of his eye; utterly terrified of what would happen if he confronted his captor.

Shaking like a leaf, Tahno's voice sounded weak and reedy; unfamiliar to his own ears. "E-e-Eichhorst . . . p-p-please, you've got to let me out of here." He shook as he held out his hands in what he meant to be a friendly gesture. "If, if I could get talk to M-m-Ming, please."

The European laughed twice as loud, "Let you out? Why the hell would we do that! You're better off right where you are Tahno." He winked, "Before you were just a non-bender, but now we've made you a star."

Varrick stepped in between Eichhorst and Tahno, "Kid, you used to have it all; fame, fortune, any ass you wanted. Then that mean old Amon took it all away from you. Sure we're a little rough but we're doing you a favour." The highly animated business man recovered from his earlier nervousness to find his usual exuberance and animation, "Most of the slaves that we capture either get shipped to whore houses in the Northern Water tribe or in Earth Kingdom factories."

Tahno's eyes popped open, "Slave! You mean you're going to sell me like a piece of fucking property!"

The boy began to hyperventilate, terrible thoughts and scenarios running through his head. He imagined Ming being raped to death inside a Northern Water tribe whorehouse by some religious fundamentalist noble. He thought of Shaozu dying in soot and smoke in one of the Earth Kingdom's sweat shops.

Mind reeling, Tahno attempted to reason with his captors, "You c-c-can't do this." He forced his features into an attempt at a winning smile, "Look, I can be a reasonable guy. I've got the championship pot from the tournament. I-I-I've got a good savings account and some money from betting on myself. Just let me go and—

"Kid!" Varrick shouted in an overly animated way, "You're being bought by Chief Unalaq; one of our biggest clients!" He mused and rubbed his chin as he thought on it, "Unalaq always loved his young boys and girls. Normally he only strangles to death his female sex slaves, but this month his boy toy hung himself, so that's where you come in."

"I told you we'd make you a star, Tahno," Eichhorst said, "Unalaq has more money than Hiroshi Sato and a strict religion that demands sexual suppression of its priesthood. As the head of the Water Tribe religion in the North, do you know how cock blocked Unalaq was before we helped him see the light?"

"That's right, kiddo," Varrick happily supplied, "You're going to be one of the male lovers of one of the biggest men in the world (after me of course) and there's at least a fifty percent chance that he'll treat you okay."

Eichhorst attempted to comfort Tahno in his own brutal way, "Look at it this way, Tahno. Unalaq came to us looking for someone that he could punish and in you we found a fallen athlete accused of cheating. Do you know how much Unalaq paid to have you?"

Tahno began to shake his head, the gravity of the situation too much for him.

This didn't stop Eichhorst, who leaned in excitedly, "Do you know how much you're worth."

The traumatised lad tried to cover his ears, shaking his head harder now; unable and unwilling to comprehend it.

The smile on Eichhorst's face was pure sleaze, "eight hundred thousand yuans, Tahno; that's how much was paid for you. Congratulations, you are officially our most valuable commodity."

"NO!" Tahno screamed and began to shake at the bars of his cage. "I'm not a thing, I'm a person! You can't do this to me!"

"Actually, you're not a person," Eichhorst laughed, pulling a piece of paper from out of his jacket. "According to the official cargo manifest you are classified as livestock; take a look." He held the paper out, using his firebending to provide illumination.

Tahno let go of the bars, controlled by a primal animal urge to get away from the fire in Eichhorst's hands.

"Trust me, my boy," Eichhorst reassured him, "It's best for you if you don't think about it. Conceal, don't feel; you need to keep smiling, do what you're told and you'll be okay. I promise."

The captive young man collapsed from fear and exhaustion. He sat on the cold metal floor of the cage, frozen in fear.

Eichhorst called over to one of the Dutch sailors in their own language. Immediately the warehouse was in a flurry of activity. Someone threw a tarp over Tahno's cage and a Dutchman driving a fork life lifted the cage off the ground; doing his best to try and keep the merchandise safe.

Outside the cage, Eichhorst and Varrick were joined were presented overcoats by a pair of sailors, while a team of local Republic City Hoodlums set about burning all the documents in the office warehouse.

"Destroy anything incriminating that hasn't already been lifted out," Eichhorst instructed the surviving members of the Triple Triads, "We've shipped out most of the slaves but have your men in other warehouses liquidate any merchandise we can't sell. When you're done, you'll be contacted further once this whole equalist blows over."

The few remaining gang members gave affirmative replies of varying enthusiasm and set about to their assigned tasks.

The warehouse doors opened up and Eichhorst, Mikkelsen and Varrick exited.

Inside his cage, Tahno smelled the polluted waters of Republic city harbour and the salty tang of the night air. Curled up in a ball in his cage, he squeaked out a single word, "Ming . . ."

As the heads of the slave trade marched towards the boat, Varrick started to complain. "Where's Zhu-li? She should be here with me? Who's going to massage my feet and bring me a glass of warm milk? Who? Who!"

Mikkelsen growled a little bit at the eccentric tycoon's meltdown. The tall Svalbarder looked ahead under his iron mask. The large cargo ship should have been awash with activity, sailors of all nationalities rushing over it to prepare for the long voyage to the northern Water Tribe. The ship was deserted and the lights were turned off.

Raising one muscular arm, he stopped Eichhorst and Varrick; hefting his axe as he did so. "Wait," he instructed in a gravelly voice.

Then the lights came on, bright flood lights lit up the darkened dock, causing everyone to cover their eyes in shock.

Eichhorst summoned fire to his hands as his vision adjusted to the increased brightness. What he saw made his jaw drop. There on the dock was the entire Dutch crew of the trading vessel. Every last one of the foreign sailors was on their knees, tied up and surrounded by equalists with electric gloves and repeating crossbows.

Standing in front of the group like an angel of death, was the masked man himself, Amon.

Silence took over everything as the forklift carrying Tahno stopped and the two very different groups stopped to face each other.

The silence was broken as Zhu-Li leapt from behind Amon with a crossbow and a murderous rage across her face. "PEDOPHILE! KILLER! I WILL END YOU VARRICK!"

A bolt shot out of her weapon and struck the eccentric mogul in the shoulder. Varrick spun around, crying in pain before falling into the toxic waters of the harbour and being swept away by the outgoing tide.

Mikkelsen reacted, throwing out the large granite block on his back at the equalist crowd. The men and women in gas masks and green uniforms jumped to the side. However a clench of his hand split the rock into multiple pieces maiming many and killing five of the equalists; along with a number of Dutch sailors. The fewer people around to squeal the better.

In response, the equalists fired back rapid fire with their repeating crossbows; weapons that had been outlawed for centuries, even during the hundred years war. In past eras, armies of non-benders had used the repeating crossbows to take on heavily trained but smaller armies of benders; hence the gentleman's agreement on banning the weapons that even Firelord Ozai had observed.

Eichhorst threw up a wall of fire with his bending, melting many bolts, but almost a dozen got through his shield. One bolt struck him in the leg, downing him. Mikkelsen got took a bolt in the shoulder but didn't even seem to notice it as he channeled the berserkerung training of his ancestors.

The Scandinavian charged the equalists, recalling the stone block to shield him from incoming fire so he could close the gap. That however was when Amon struck.

The acrobatic equalist leader lunged at the Svalbarder, dodging an axe strike that could have cut a dozen men in half. The cyclopean obsidian and iron axe disintegrated the dock blanks where it struck.

Mikkelsen's massive strength kicked in as he ignored his shoulder injury and pulled his axe for another strike. The might blade swept through the air, narrowly missing Amon's neck as it cut a three foot thick dock support in half.

Amon jumped under the axe and used his smaller size against the European. He struck with speed and precision, rupturing the giant man's spleen with a well-placed blow in his armour's gaps and striking pressure points in the armpits of his iron armour.

Mikkelsen went down as the equalist leader blocked off his body's vital chi energy. A look of terror and surprise gripped the stoic northerner as Amon tore off his iron mask. The man screamed in terror as Amon took him by the neck and with a well-placed thumb removed the man's bending.

Instantly, Mikkelsen's already pale body seemed to lose its color and the strength left his mammoth body. The Svalbarder toppled, eyes rolling back in his head; powerless and lifeless as when Frigg castrated her father Sigmar.

Eichhorst tried to drag himself away, foaming, swearing and cursing in pain. He saw Amon looming over him and he attempted to laugh a fireball at the man, but somehow he dodged it.

Amon stepped out of the way, letting his equalist soldiers shoot a bolt through each one of Eichhorst's remaining limbs.

The cry of pain from Eichhorst was like the shriek of a carrion bird.

The Yermaniki looked up at the man towering over him, unknowable behind his mask; Zhu-li and a dozen more equalists crowded around Amon to observe their downed prey.

"No!" Eichhorst screamed as the equalists crowded around him, "NO!"

* * *

><p>Everyone in Republic city could hear the racket. Hammers slamming drowned out by the sound of men crying. It happened in one of the wealthier neighbourhoods so the police should have been there right away; they were however distracted by a planned series of arson crimes in a richer neighbourhood.<p>

The Dutch sailors and the last remaining triad members were being crucified in front of a popular fashion boutique. Nails were driven through hands and feet and the victims had signs hung over their necks with read "_flesh peddler._"

The equalists were remarkably efficient and they were soon gone, leaving only a forest of screaming and dying men. A crowd gathered after the sun had risen to watch the grisly spectacle. Word spread to the poorer neighbourhoods and there was much cheering and rejoicing, particular in the predominantly non-bending areas of the city. For the first time in a long time people had reason to hope and knew that someone was working to represent their interests. That Amon freed the slaves who would have been drowned, buried alive or burned to death gave much joy.

* * *

><p>In the capital building of Republic City, the Dutch ambassador was desperately trying to answer reporter's questions while shifting the blame of the slave trade away from the Orange Throne and its policies.<p>

Before the media, the dark skinned Dutchman in blue tailcoat and powdered wig attempted to try and keep his cool. "Please! The Orange Throne in no way condones human trafficking in any form! Slavery has been outlawed in _Die Nederlands_ for almost two hundred years."

The reporters though just kept asking; asking why the Dutch Crown Princess did not publicly address the incident, why did the Dutch not do more to crack down on white slavers and were the Dutch trying to covertly take over the United Republic of Nations?

"That's enough!" the Dutch ambassador screamed, slammed a white gloved hand on the podium. "I've had enough of this slander! There will be no further questions."

* * *

><p>Amon shut off the radio, smiling under his mask. Events had panned out better than he'd hoped. He'd just demolished a problem that generations of politicians and even Avatar Aang had ignored. The people he'd rescued from slavery and liquidation were now spreading the word of the equalists good deeds. Thus far the opposite side had only the support of moneyed benders from old families; he had the support of the people.<p>

Turning around, Amon faced his captive, tied down to a hair and wearing a hood over his head. Young Tahno so beautiful; Amon had taken him back from the Dutch after crucifying the Dutch slavers and cutting off the head of their leader Eichhorst. Currently, the Yermaniki's head was perched on a fence post in front of the Republic City Capitol building.

The enigmatic equalist leader walked around Tahno like he was stalking him, moving in for the kill almost.

Tightness built up in Amon's belly as he took in his captive. True he'd been kind enough to give the lad some clothes but the urge still resided deep inside of him. He wanted to teach the boy a lesson, but a deeper, more primal part of him wanted so much more.

_His mind's eye saw the boy, face slack and throat cut. _

Amon froze, trying to control the impulses that came from the part of his soul that powered bending.

_Tahno's throat was cut; his blood spewed everywhere as Amon ejaculated thick white strings all over the dead boy's face. _

Amon sucked in a breath and steeled himself. He's worked so hard to get where he was now, but the temptation never really went away.

_With Tahno's blood, Amon had written the word "whore" on the wall and laughed as he did so._

Amon stopped and the image was banished. In many ways, he was much like Varrick or Eichhorst. The difference between him and them was that Amon knew he had a problem and worked tirelessly to cure himself.

Self-control regained, Amon stepped forth and ripped off Tahno's hood.

The lad's eyes fluttered open, ripped from whatever nightmare had haunted his dreams after his harrowing encounter with the slavers.

Tahno gasped, body wracked with pain and still cold despite the temperature in the room and the itchy but warm clothes he'd been provided. His eyes were puffy, red, all dried up from crying. His tongue felt like sandpaper and his heart felt like it'd been torn from his chest.

"You," he croaked to the masked equalist leader, "You did this to me. Why would you do—?

He was cut off as Amon slapped him across the face. "**Shut** your fucking mouth," the normally silver tongued man hissed; livid with the purest hatred, "After saving your worthless skin, you owe me a **little **gratitude."

Tahno shrank from the masked man who trembled with rage and hatred. He was powerless before the head revolutionary and could not help but listen to the madman who'd started off this sordid chain of events.

"I did not do this to you," Amon corrected, regaining some semblance of self-control. "I took away the privilege that you took for granted. If I had not taken away you're bending, Eichhorst and the pedophile Varrick would have taken another mouse-sheep to the slaughter. That's what I hate about you, Tahno and everyone like you; unless it happens to you or your loved ones, the entire world can rot in hell."

He spun around, walking to the back of the small room, lowering a silvery white screen for an unknown purpose. "If you don't speak out against injustice, you profit from it. You've profited handsomely from your privilege, young Tahno; and any grief you had from being a mixed race child is insignificant to the grief of the poverty stricken non-bending women targeted by the slavers or the jobless non-bending teenaged boys taken to die in sweat shops. I feel nothing but contempt for you, Tahno."

Amon eyed Tahno, who was hearing him but not really listening. Amon felt infuriated. Whenever people were confronted with injustice they just seemed to stick their fingers in their ears and pretend to hear and see nothing. For so long he'd tried peaceful methods, but until he'd put on the mask and started breaking necks and crushing skulls nothing had worked.

"For evil to prevail, Tahno, good men must do nothing; but "good" is a charitable label for people like you. Face it, Tahno, you and your team are evil."

"No we're not! Ming and Shaozu didn't deserve this!" Tahno weakly protested, sickened with worry over his best friend and boyfriend.

"Bullshit!" Amon cried out, accusing the boy like an angry god. "Those hapless idiots followed you; a cheat, liar and woman beater and the lot of you were rewarded for it. If I hadn't taken away your bending soon you'd have begun to abuse and hit Ming, just like you did with your past fuck toys."

"No!"

"Yes!" Amon cried, once more losing his composure and feeling his old hungers start to return. "You're a scumbag with no self-esteem and you drag down everyone around you! You're beyond redemption! You are on the same level as the imbecile Avatar shouting that the weak oppress themselves; that the rape victims wore revealing clothing and the poor asked to sleep on the streets. You and others like you are a sickness on this world and you've been coddled too long by the cowards who claim neutrality but really side with the oppressor. For ages the Avatar has been the pawn of the powerful, even the well-meaning ones are at best impotent and at worst enforcers of a stagnant status quo."

"You have no idea what it's like to watch the police smash a man to a pulp when he was an unarmed bender while an affluent firebender can commit murder with a slap on the wrist. You never cared when Unalaq all but legalised rape on non-bending women or when Earth King Kuei started programs to starve non-benders to death to make room for earth benders after the war. Society is sick on every level and radical action is necessary and the Avatar and all benders only steer the ship towards demise." Amon's voice rose to a mad pitch as he began to set up a strange machine with a bright light and a roll of film. "Benders only claim class warfare when the non-benders fight back; their children rule the world while earning nothing and offer crumbs from their table to good little Uncle Tom non-benders. Even a non-bender like Varrick who is accepted by the bending elite got his start by running a series of child brothels for the aristocrats of the Northern Water tribe."

"If you can look at this world and feel good about it, you deserve to die. But I won't," Amon's voice lowered. "Before he escaped justice, Varrick designed a machine that could capture moving pictures. He planned to market these "movers" as pornography for the highly religious and sexist Northern Water tribe and certain elements of the Earth Kingdom where rape and murder of victims is seen as a new craze to masturbate to."

Tahno looked at Amon, speaking out in barely a whisper. "Ming didn't deserve this." He squeaked.

Amon sighed as he walked towards Tahno. "I know." His voice lowered and for once he didn't sound like a silver tongued devil or a mad blood hungry psychopath. "I wish that things were different." He sounded like he was about to cry himself, "I wish I hadn't needed to become what I am."

His arms hung by his side, almost like he was defeated. "I used to be a bender," Amon confessed, "I used to think that bending was the most wonderful thing in the world and that I could use my bending to help others; but my bending only fed my hunger for domination. I unlocked all my chakras when I was younger and shut off my bending but it's still there inside me. I have had many privileges that others have not and for that I beg forgiveness from the spirits every day. There are days that I wish that I was dead."

He sighed . . . and began to laugh. "But when you see what happened to Ming and Shaozu," he began to laugh louder and louder, like some twisted clown. "You'll see . . . hahaha! You'll see why I wear the mask!" His laughter spiraled higher and higher; "Varrick called it a snuff film, enjoy."

Moving faster than any man had the right to, Amon grabbed Tahno's head and began to attack a harness mean to hold the boy's head in place and hold his eyelids open. Immediately, a saline drip began to leak moisture slowly into Tahno's eyes.

The boy screamed in protest, he was well beyond any kind of reasoned arguments or protests; he was ripe for the slaughter.

The mover projector lit up and a countdown lit up on the screen. Tahno then had the pleasure of seeing the snuff films that Varrick was planning to make a fortune off of.

The black and white footage was grainy and blurry, without sound. There on the screen like a spirit vison was Shaozu, naked and trembling. Tahno would only watch helplessly as two Fire Nation men entered the set and began to shock him with agonizing but painful bursts of lightning. In the mover, Shaozu's skin became black and charred from repeated lightning strikes, tears visible on his face even with the low picture quality.

Tahno began to tremble, wordlessly suffering as he watched video footage of his comrade's suffering. After about ten minutes, the Fire Nation men left and a pair of Water benders entered from the Southern Water Tribe. The pair of them rolled the bound and tried up Shaozu on his side and began to sodomize him with water tentacles; one of them shutting up his screaming by shattering his teeth with an ice fist and then jamming his cock into the bloody, broken, toothless maw of Shaozu.

A pair of earth benders joined and began to cut Shaozu with obsidian knives while the water bender mouth fucked the de-bended boy. One Earth bender gouged out the boy's left eye and shoved aside the water bender to make love to the eye socket.

Tahno twisted and wriggled in his seat, whimpering incoherently and alternately offering up prayers to the spirits to stop all of this.

Shaozu's death came after about thirty minutes. He'd been cut up, raped, tortured and finally strangled to death with bare hands.

His mind splintered even more as Amon changed the films and began to play a movie of Ming.

"Stop! I'M BEGGING YOU!" Tahno howled as the snuff mover starring Ming began. This one though had a clearer picture and more importantly, sound.

The bound and captive Tahno could hear as Ming cried for mercy as two giant men from Svalbard ass raped him without any kind of lube or preparation. He could only listen and watch as Ming screamed for his mommy as a Firebending Manitoban castrated him and cauterized the wound with his fire.

This mover lasted nearly an hour in which Ming was raped in the ass multiple times, had all his limbs cut off, was pissed and shit on by over a dozen men and that was just in the first fifteen minutes.

The snuff film became more and more lavish as Ming's eyes were gouged out and men from all Nations, from Xing and Europe took turns torturing and raping him. It was even worse when bending women were allowed on set; they turned out to be more creative than the men and fingered themselves to climax multiple times while inflicting the worse humiliations and agonies to Ming. One water bending woman actually used Ming's severed penis as a dildo. An Earth Kingdom woman cut a hole in his belly and rubbed her clitoris over his exposed intestines. Likewise an earth bending woman from Texas scalped him before defecating in his gory, empty eye sockets.

Tahno's screams were useless; nobody could hear him but Amon and there was still a half hour left on the mover.

* * *

><p>Avatar Korra put on a forced smile as she entered Tahno's cell at the Republic City Mental hospital. Tahno had very good health insurance so he got prime treatment at the nuthouse.<p>

"Hey Tahno," Korra greeted the comatose young man in a strait jacket. Tahno simply stared out into space, drooling on himself like an infant.

"Look, I know we were never friends, but, um—I'm sorry about what happened to you." The words sounded painfully fake to her ears and all the rehearsal she'd done was for naught. Korra honestly had no idea how to relate to Tahno or help him; whatever Amon had done to him had broken his mind. Tahno couldn't eat or even go to the bathroom by himself.

Korra persisted with the prepared lines she'd written earlier. "Um, I'm really sorry about Ming and Shaozu. The police just found their bodies this morning and um, sorry."

Korra sighed and put her face in her hands as she faced off the unresponsive boy. "Oh fuck it. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here. Amon just shut down a slave trading network that had been in place for almost fifty years. Even Lin Bei-fong and Avatar Aang didn't do that much."

The water tribe girl looked at the comatose patient mournfully, "I'm starting to think that maybe working with Amon wouldn't be a bad idea. I don't know, he's a maniac but he's getting results. I'm starting to think I'm on the wrong side."

No reply from Tahno.

Korra thought aloud further, "Living alone at the South Pole, I never realized what people were going through. It's like the whole world is falling apart and the leaders of the world don't want it any other way. Shit, in any country benders don't make up any more than a quarter of the population at most."

She looked up at Tahno, rubbing tears from her cerulean eyes, "What do you do when you realize that you're the villain? What the fuck do I do when being the Avatar means helping the people who hurt everyone else? Bending is slowly dying out in the world and the few benders left are taking the whole pie."

Korra looked at Tahno with a mix of reservation and epiphany. "I'm going to kill them all," Korra concluded. "I'm going to kill anyone who oppresses others. I'm going to beat Amon by showing them that I'm better than him. I don't know how but I'll kill anyone who knew about the slave trade and did nothing, I'll build an army from benders and non-benders who give a shit about justice and give a shit about people."

The steel in her voice was tempered by fear and uncertainty, "Anyone who's ever given to the poor or helped the weak will join me. The era of Avatars going it alone is done. There's so much wrong in the world I can never fix it. I'll be the first Avatar to bring real equality to the world. And. . . ."

Korra trailed off as she rubbed her temples, trying desperately to organize her thoughts and come up with a plan. Killing Among would solve nothing, without him the equalist movement would continue as long as the social grievances that lay behind it remained. Even electing a non-bender leader wouldn't magic away all of the social problems.

Korra sighed, "I'm going to fix this, Tahno. I'll do right by everyone if it kills me." She stood up and buttoned her coat around her, "It all starts now. I am awake." And it did not feel good.

* * *

><p>And that's the end of that!<p>

I wrote this story after first hearing of the riots in Ferguson, USA and the racial problem that persists in the United States. I hate to bring politics into fan fiction but this is something that's been near and dear to my heart for a long time.

In the West, in the wealthiest countries in the world there's no excuse for sexism, racism or homelessness. We should have already conquered these problems. We all thought that the end of the USSR would spell an end to history and a triumph of capitalism but it just opened a new chapter of evil.

Wherever you are, be you atheist, Muslim or Christian do your homework and do what you can to fight against injustice. If we all put our shoulders to the wheel we can do great things. I believe in humanity and that good will one day prevail over evil.

Cheers and blessings to all. Thank you very much

Ta

Master of the Boot


End file.
